


Deviant - An Iron Fey Fanfiction

by Rapidash



Category: Iron Fey Series - Julie Kagawa
Genre: F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fanfiction, Fantasy, Iron Fey, Love, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 16:33:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17881295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rapidash/pseuds/Rapidash
Summary: Bearing the scars of the Summer Queen’s cruel hand, Lille has always been the obedient, quiet, and secretly vengeful maid to Queen Titania. But when the Summer Queen deals with the cards of war one night at Elysium, Lille must stand for herself and fight the wicked games of both the Winter and Summer Courts in order to survive.





	1. Chapter 1

Elysium, Summer Solstice

 

They say that cruelty and wickedness are borne from one’s past. Their troubles, challenges, abuse and neglect they have experienced. But not all evil is borne from something. Some evil just is. Some people simply delight in causing others pain, the amount of control over another sometimes fueling a sort of ecstasy. An ecstasy that breeds and spreads like an infected cell. 

This ecstasy can spread within anyone, and anything. Kings, knights, soldiers, maidens, minstrels, princes, and queens. Especially queens. Because down to the root of monarchy, it was always the Queen who ruled them all. 

These are the thoughts that poured through Lille’s head as she applied a bit of jasmine oil to her wrists. Wrists that were strong but bore scars and burns from when Queen Titania had forced her to hold a red hot fire poker as punishment. Lille swallowed and tried to focus on the sweet scent of the oil as she carefully rubbed it into her bronze skin. 

She glanced up at her reflection in the ornate mirror on her vanity. To the stranger, she was just an ordinary fey girl, appearing nearly twenty but bore the weight of nearly one hundred fifty summers. Her face was beautiful, with an elegant yet soft nose and perfect lips, but her eyes held the burden of all the things Titania had done to her. 

Her back, a decoration of pale pink scars from the lash, was proof enough of that. Lille tore her gaze away from herself. She hated looking in the mirror, hated looking at the reflection of the poor, pathetic creature who was too afraid of her Queen to stand up for herself. Then again, if she did such a thing, she would either be banished or killed. Or worse. 

Tonight was Elysium, the gaudy, agonizing event in which the courts of Summer and Winter came together and pretended to get along for one night. Among other things. Lille had never really been able to join the past Elysiums, as her back or any other part of her body had been so wounded and torn had left her bedridden in the infirmary for days. 

Despite the brutality of Titania’s punishments, Lille was not the only one to receive them. Taking a deep breath and purposely avoiding her reflection, Lille pulled on a pair of ballet pink satin slippers, thankful that her dress did not drag on the ground, or what could be called a dress, anyway. It was a rose gold thing that dipped low on her chest to her sternum. The back was nearly entirely nonexistent, the pieces of fabric coming together low on the small of her back to cover her rear and flow to the ground, exposing the calamity that was her skin.   
She slipped a small knife coated in rattlesnake venom into the ornate hairstyle upon her head. She was careful not to let it catch in any of the beads or pins holding her sleek auburn hair up. 

Mustering up her courage, Lille stepped out of her room and into the hall, trying to calm her racing heart. Small pixies darted around the corridors, probably in search of some sort of food, or mischief. 

Treading down the hall, her feet making no sound upon the crimson red carpet lined along the wood floor, Lille’s ears perked up at the sound of revelry in the courtyard. There were some things she did like about Elysium. The food, definitely, and the music, and…

She stopped herself before her mind even wandered down that path. It was treason to even think about them in a positive sort of fashion. Titania would banish her, most certainly. She let out a small gasp in startlement as a small white mouse scurried across her foot. She hastily gathered up her skirts and made her way to the side entrance leading to the courtyard. 

Nobles and lesser fey alike mingled and perused the buffet table, which was layered in sweets and savories alike. The smell of sticky buns and chocolate tarts invaded Lille’s nose, and she gave a sigh of temporary joy. This joy also came from the knowledge that the Winter courtiers had not yet arrived. That they had not yet come. 

“If you’re going to eventually get a taste of chocolate strawberry, I suggest you do it now, before Sir Pig consumes it all,” a familiar voice made Lille flinch in surprise, then smile. 

“His name is not Sir Pig, although it does suit him quite well,” she replied. Puck’s green eyes glinted like fresh dew on summer grass and Lille felt her heart soar a bit. She and Robin Goodfellow had only been friends for a decade, but Lille felt as if she’d known him forever. 

“Well, perhaps we should go over there and convince him to change it! I could do that, you know,” Puck grinned mischievously and nudged her elbow ever so softly with his own. Lille let out a small laugh.

“Yes, and Oberon would most definitely turn you into a raven and lock you in a cage for a few years.” Puck scoffed at this and feigned offence. 

“Lord Pointy Ears would never do a thing like that. He likes my sense of humor, especially when it is enacted upon those he has a distaste for. Besides,” he said, placing a hand at the small of her back and guiding her toward the buffet table, “I am already a raven. Or haven’t you heard, milady?” 

Lille shook her head. “Why do I somehow feel Lord Oberon would not care if you pulled that joke on anyone else but Lord Bishop?” The lord of the Gray Isles made an appearance only once every two years to the Summer Elysium, and every time he did, half the food on the buffet table was gone before a third of the night was over. You couldn’t blame him, Lille supposed. He was a dwarf, after all. 

Lille sobered and turned to Puck, her muscles tensing subconsciously from his hand near her skin. It wasn’t that he was actually even touching her. Sensing her change of mood, Puck’s smile fell and worry smothered his eyes like a blanket of snow. “What is it?” he murmured, withdrawing his hand, only then realizing his mistake. 

Ever since Titania began lashing Lille as punishment for disobedience, she had grown so tense and anxious when so close to others, especially those who supported Titania. She knew Puck detested Titania just as much as anyone who worked for Oberon, but the uneasiness still lingered in her gut. And it made her feel guilty, especially around Puck.

“I apologize, I don’t mean to seem anxious it’s just…” she trailed off, unsure how to pose her concerns. “I am nervous, Robin,” she whispered, using Puck’s given name to show her seriousness.

“Why ever so?” he replied, his brow furrowing. “You’ve attended Elysium before.”

“I just have a strange feeling about this one. I feel as if…she’s plotting something. Something terrible,” Lille said, wringing her hands. A chill crept up her arms, creating gooseflesh. “I don’t know what it is, but I just have the worst feeling…”

Puck frowned and went to put his arm around her, before remembering how she felt about being touched. “Sorry,” he murmured, laughing nervously. She gave him soft smile in return to show he was forgiven. It wasn’t as if she chose this dress, that exposed the brunt of Titania’s abuse. The Queen had ordered all her attendants to wear flesh-exposing attire to show off her control of her servants. 

The very idea of the pride snaking through that woman as she sat in her golden chair with her crystal wine glass made dark thoughts race through Lille’s mind. She clenched her jaw and forced the thoughts of strangling the Queen to death from her mind. Lille was not a killer. She never had been. 

Another chill spiked the air, this time filled with glamour and the scent of Winter magic. Lille crossed her arms over her chest, trying to conserve a bit of warmth. “I apologize for I must leave you now,” Puck said, his tone light once more. “Got to go bother Sir Pig into perhaps trying to give one of the princelings a blueberry tartlet. Especially Rowan – he hates blueberries.” 

Puck winked at her one last time before disappearing into the crowd of nobles gathering to witness Winter’s entrance. And for warmth, for the temperature had decreased immensely. Lille spotted one of Titania’s other ladies, a young fey all of thirty, yet she looked more like sixteen. Ana, was her name. 

Lille caught the younger faerie’s eye and gave a friendly, encouraging smile. Ana chanced a small smile in return, her curly, wheat blond hair framing her face. Lille only hoped no one would try to take advantage of her tonight, considering she was so inexperienced in the games of court. She turned her attention back to the proceedings, moving to get a better look between two noblewomen’s shoulders. Though she could see quite clearly, Lille made sure she was blended into the crowd, away from wandering eyes. 

One of the biggest rules of surviving in court: blend in. The first fey through the entrance of the briars was a stout redcap bearing the Winter court banner, then a few knights dressed in dusky black armor, and then the Queen of Winter. She walked like an empress and a soldier, her head held high, her stride long and proud, and her deep black eyes drawing every glance in the courtyard to her and her only. 

Mab, dressed in a gown so black it seemed to writhe with nightmares, the skirt flowing around her like liquid. A white fur cloak was such a contrast to her gown that it hurt Lille’s eyes for a moment to look at her. And then, trailing behind Mab, came her sons. Sage, the eldest and crown prince; then Rowan, the second youngest and most cruel; and Ash, her youngest and most quiet. Both Sage and Ash donned elegant black coats, velvet trousers, and shiny black riding boots where Rowan was dressed entirely in white. 

Oberon and Titania stood and welcomed the guests with a grave nod and a venomous smile that would make a rattlesnake wet itself. “Lady Mab, we are very glad of you to join us,” Oberon said, warning in his tone directed towards his wife. Likely so she didn’t say something like ‘on the contrary’, as she had in previous meetings. 

“Indeed, Lord Oberon,” Mab replied, her voice a deep alto and lilting like the cold death of Winter. “We are glad to be here in this warm environment.” She shot a split-second glare at Titania, but the Summer queen only smiled and the temperature rose, causing the once present gooseflesh to disappear from Lille’s arms and Mab to remove her heavy cloak. 

“Please, sit, eat and drink,” Oberon said quickly, changing the subject before things could get any worse. “We have much to discuss.” When they were seated, it was as if a switch had flipped. The nobles went right back to mingling and chatting politics with each other. A few made their way to the buffet and others to the shadows of the trees. 

Lille quickly glanced around for Puck but did not see him anywhere. Instead, she spotted Ana near the chocolate tarts – and being cornered by a leering satyr. Anger swept through Lille as she saw him run his hand up and down the girl’s exposed back. She would not have any of this. Not tonight. 

Weaving her way through the throng of fey, Lille let her anger fuel the darkness inside her, and in the next moment, all she saw in the next moment was not the satyr, but Titania, ordering the lash dipped in tar brought down again and again upon the girl’s back. Upon her own.   
“She said leave her alone!” Lille found herself snapping fiercely at the satyr. Surprised, he flinched a bit and whirled to face her. Ana did as well. Neither of them had heard her approach. 

She felt like the fox who had cornered the mouse. The mouse who had put maggots into the fox’s belly. And now, the mouse would pay.


	2. Chapter 2

Do not go gentle into that good night,  
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;  
Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.

~Dylan Thomas, 1914-1953


End file.
